


Fortified Mirage

by ronzertnert



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Poetry, Sentimental, death i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronzertnert/pseuds/ronzertnert
Summary: I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it showsI can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothesCinnamon and sugary and softly spoken liesYou never know just how you look through other people's eyes
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Fortified Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> alright, here is my attempt at avant-garde poetry. 💕

Brittle dirt and nothing more.

A soft, barely existent kiss from her slightly rough lips. 

As he lay there, he thought,  _ Am I really dead? _

_ Is this all it boils down to? _

Dirt between his fingers, dirt underneath his nails.

She moved ahead, riding free.

He'd like to think she's bearing something on her shoulders. Something big and intangible.

But even with the weight she'd carry, she's still able to move. She'd move towards the sun. He'd stay half-buried in dirt until the end of time. Pressed and pressed and pressed against new sediments is all the mercy he could ask for.

But he met one small act of kindness. Or grace. Or perhaps even gratitude.

She'll never be where he is now with all the sins he committed.

He stays as corporal remains at best, or he comes face to face with animalistic maws. He is stone, and can't attain life from here.

_ Scree, scree. _

Animalistic maws seem so extreme if he were stone, but as if the thought drew, a twisted smile above him ripped across a cheek. A tongue licks a famished pair of lips, a palm scooped up—

**_CRUNCH_ **

  
  
  


A soft gulp. The scent of freshly brewed grounds wafted in the cool breeze.

The figure whipped his head back, body unmoving.

"Are you making coffee? What a pleasant aroma."

**Author's Note:**

> april fools bitches
> 
> lov the cronch


End file.
